


don't cry for me, argentina

by bigbadw0lf



Series: HQ Thirstmas 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Day 2: Thighs, Finger Sucking, Fingers in Mouth, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, HQ Thirstmas 2020, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Smut, So Much Fingers In Mouth, Thighs, canonverse, light Dacryphilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbadw0lf/pseuds/bigbadw0lf
Summary: “Iwa-chan! Remember I wanted to come a few days before the Olympics started?”“Yes, Oikawa,’’ he shifted in the bed, palm pressing on his stomach, “I remember.”“Well, I can’t now!” Tooru whined. “Eiko-chan’s there! In my room! She took my room.”“You can stay in my room.’’ His eyes widened at his own word, and he quickly added, “I mean, you can stay in my house, if you want. I got room for you.’’“I’ll stay in your room then!’’ Tooru cheered, all the distress seemingly gone from his voice, “Bye, Iwa-chan!’’Having Oikawa stay with Iwaizumi for some time should be nothing out of the ordinary, nor should it change anything, right? After all, they had spent all their waking time together for the better part of their lives.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: HQ Thirstmas 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056896
Comments: 34
Kudos: 206
Collections: HQ Thirstmas 2020





	don't cry for me, argentina

**Author's Note:**

> > **HQ Thirstmas 2020. Day 2: THIGHS.**  
> 
> 
> This is my first time writing full-on, E-rated smut... (Be gentle with my poor heart, please!) Figures it would be Iwaoi. This started as pure porn... and ended up becoming plot? Serves as a love letter to Oikawa Tooru too.
> 
> 💌This fic shall be dedicated to Beli, my dear (kinda) twin!!!😍 For helping me through horny fic writing with amazing headcanons and prompts that one day I shall write🥳 Anyways, TY for the immaculate energy, bebé! MWAH. (Also for sending me songs hehe)
> 
> And some love🥰💘 to the NSFW part of Iwaoi's Court server!!! For letting me get away with my fingers in mouth agenda hehe.
> 
> Thanks to my amazing friends and betas [Amii](https://twitter.com/amiicee_lokei)/[ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiicee_Lokei) and [Loh](https://twitter.com/lokurochan)/[ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMournerNoFunerals93/), that helped me on such short notice😍 TYSM bb!!!<3
> 
> **Title from Don't Cry for Me, Argentina by Madonna.**

Hajime was jolted awake past midnight by an incessant ringing by his ear. A thump, thump sound akin to a heartbeat resonated across the room.

His eyelids were drooping shut, heavy with sleep and exhaustion as he sat up in the bed. He felt so tired—having been working non-stop the whole season and just now getting a vacation—yet his cell phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

At freaking 12:06 AM.

Craning his neck slightly to the side, Hajime stretched out his hand to reach the top of his bedside table, stifling a yawn into his bicep.

It could be an important call, he tried to convince himself.

The screen of his phone lit up the dark room. On the screen, a selfie of Oikawa Tooru poking out his tongue next to him, both throwing peace signs to the camera and looking uninhibitedly happy with the words _TOORU - Cell_ over it blinked back at him. Immediately, memories of the day they had taken that picture tugged at his heartstrings—they hadn’t seen each other in so long then and Tooru’s shoulder pressed against his was warmth and chilling all at once.

That Sunday they had basked in San Juan’s sunlight, strolling along the streets beside each other, shoulder almost pressed to shoulder as if they didn't have a care in the world. He had felt so happy to see Tooru, and despite the time they hadn’t seen each other in person, it all felt like they hadn’t spent one minute apart.

As they stood underneath a tree in the park, closer than they were accustomed to being in public, something akin to a revelation hit him all at once when Tooru chuckled, uninhibitedly happy as he chewed on an _alfajor_.

They were both so close to achieving their goals, to what they had been striving for all their lives. It was like the tips of their fingers were brushing the corners of a sign with VICTORY written on it.

In just a few months, the Olympics would start and Hajime was sure he would leave the village’s facility with a grin on his face and Tooru would go back to Argentina with at least one shiny new medal sitting proudly around his neck.

Now, laying down on his bed, Hajime suddenly no longer felt sleepy. He scolded himself for not realizing sooner that it was Tooru calling. _Who else would be so shameless as to ring his phone at such an ungodly hour?_

Hajime rolled his eyes and sighed, thumb pressing down on the screen. He put the phone on speaker and immediately—

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru’s voice was high-pitched and, for lack of better words, seemingly distressed. Hajime’s brow furrowed and he straightened up on the bed. “Remember I wanted to come a few days before the Olympics started?”

He heard something shifting in the background, a rustling of sorts. Then, Tooru took a dramatic pause—and Hajime rolled his eyes, even though his heart was beating wildly against his ribcage, fond of his antics. Although it was very obvious by now, since they had talked about the fact Tooru would be coming back to Japan for the Olympics, Hajime decided to indulge him, if only for the sake of his peace of mind.

“Yes, Oikawa,’’ he shifted in the bed, palm pressing on his stomach, “I remember.”

“Well, I can’t now!” Tooru whined and despite this being common, sleep-idled Hajime’s brain almost short-circuited for some unknown reason, “Eiko-chan’s there! In my room! She took my room.”

Oh, right. Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose. In a strange turn of events, Tooru’s sister, Arisa, had started dating Sakusa Kiyoomi’s sister, Eiko—wasn't the world small?

It had been strange, Hajime could admit, getting out of the Japan National Team training facility and spotting Arisa with Takeru, Tooru’s nephew, waiting for Eiko to finish talking to Kiyoomi.

Hajime had gone to greet them, of course—he had manners, and having grown up with Tooru made way for him to feel like Arisa’s family too.

“Tooru, it’s like almost 1 AM,” Hajime started, verifying the hour on the top of the screen, “So—”

“But Iwa-chan!” Tooru interrupted him, “I don’t like hotels, you know this!” Since it was a phone call, Hajime couldn’t actually see his expression—but since Hajime was nothing if not an expert on the intrinsics of Oikawa Tooru, he could vividly imagine the way he must be jutting his lip out, wobbling, and his eyes shining so bright as he made puppy eyes underneath the luminescent lights of his room—

Hajime cleared his throat, trying to fight the heat crawling up his neck at the image.

“No, I wasn’t gonna send you to a hotel, you heathen! I mean… You can stay in my room.’’ His eyes widened at his own word, his cheeks reddening for his mishap, and he quickly added, “I mean, you can stay in my house, if you want. I got room for you.’’

Tooru hummed through the phone and Hajime heard… a slurping sound in the background. Was this bastard drinking?

He opened his mouth to say something when Tooru finally spoke up.

“I’ll stay in your room then!’’ Tooru cheered, all the distress seemingly gone from his voice, “Bye, Iwa-chan!’’

Hajime stood still as the call disconnected. _That bastard_. He had probably called him at this hour in hopes Hajime would let him stay at his place, rent-free, and of course, provide free entertainment since he had never been able to deny Tooru much of anything. More so when his voice got so whiny and high-pitched.

He couldn’t do anything but put his phone screen down on his bedside table and look up at the ceiling.

A grin tugged up the corner of his mouth. _That smart, cocky bastard._

Hajime fell asleep with a grin tugging the corners of his lips, wondering if there would ever be a moment in time where he wasn’t utterly in love with Tooru.

He thought it was not likely, his breath evening out as he slipped back into a peaceful sleep. After all, there had never been a second in his 27 years of life where he hadn’t loved him.

—

Three days later, Oikawa Tooru arrived at the airport late at night, the stars already shining bright up in the dark sky. He hadn’t taken into consideration the time difference while buying his flight.

Nonetheless, Hajime was there, wrapped in a warm jacket, waiting for him on a padded chair. His breath came slightly puffy against the rather chilly wind engulfing the waiting room.

The gates opened and in came a flood of people. Hajime looked up.

A shiver went down his spine once he caught a glimpse of Tooru approaching him, walking decisively towards him amongst a crowd of people. Even from a few meters afar, he could see the skin around his eyes crinkling with happiness once he spotted him.

At this point, he didn’t even feel surprised by the way Tooru’s mere presence still affected him so thoroughly, so immediately—despite the distance, despite the time, despite the oceans in between, despite everything.

Tooru ran up to Hajime with a wide grin on his face, dragging his suitcase’s wheels behind him. The fact he was dressed in a light shade of blue made Hajime stifle a smile behind the neck of his jacket. 

He had always looked so tantalizing dressed like this, as if he belonged to the sky itself. He idly wondered if somehow the pull of Argentina’s blues was what drew him there—maybe unconsciously, just another play of destiny.

Once he was just a few centimeters away from him, Hajime stood up and moved forward. Like muscle memory, he caught Tooru by the nape in a tight hug, chilly air, and suitcase be damned as his nose dragged against his cheek.

Sighing, Tooru wrapped his arms around Hajime’s neck and leaned down to bury his nose on his throat, tickling his collarbone with a drag of the tip. Hajime exhaled, feeling grounded to his spot by the very missed warmth.

He had never been so grateful for their height difference, embraced and engulfed by Tooru after so long apart—not that he would admit it out loud though. But then, his thoughts had always been traitorous.

He couldn’t see Tooru’s expression but his voice was warm and soft and shrilling against his ear. “Iwa-chan…’’ he exhaled and Hajime closed his eyes, basking in being surrounded by him. 

_God, he had missed him._

He had thought his longing would get better with time. But it didn’t, even if Hajime had come to terms with loving Tooru a long time ago; sometimes, he thought there hadn’t been a time where he hadn’t loved him.

Loving Oikawa Tooru for him was as easy and natural as breathing, as much a constant in his life as the sun rising every day and the winter coming each year. It would take nothing short of a miracle to even begin to ignore these feelings. 

The way the thought of him invaded his mind so constantly, perpetually, frantically, sometimes scared him beyond words. But he quickly calmed down. After all, at the end of the day, they had always been in each other’s lives, so it wasn’t that farfetched to be overwhelmed by everything he was.

He sometimes idly wondered if in another universe there was a Tooru and a Hajime that didn’t know each other for a lifetime—but the way they were so intricate in each other’s lives in this one made the thought seem unfathomable. His life had been shaped around Tooru by the very foundations and that wasn’t something he wished to change any time soon—nor ever.

Clearing his throat before getting more consumed by thoughts, he moved away from the embrace and looked Tooru over. _Really_ looked at him. From head to toe.

Although Tooru had always been well-built, Hajime found out a long time ago—the first time he had visited him in Argentina precisely—that he had gotten… bigger. He had always been taller than Hajime, but now even his chest was wider too, due to the intense training he had gone through in South America to become the professional athlete he now was.

Hajime shook his head slightly, getting rid of errant thoughts.

He focused on the man in front of him. He focused on the now.

“Nice to see you, idiot.”

Tooru beamed brightly.

—

Once they arrived at Hajime’s house, Tooru entered and looked around, eyes jumping from the mahogany table, to the couches, to the wall full of pictures of various moments of his life.

Naturally, most of the pictures featured Tooru himself. Being such an intricate part of his growing up, more often than not they were captured together.

Hajime had never tried to hide how overly sentimental he was—hell, he had come to terms with it long ago—so he scoffed when Tooru cooed, “So many cute pictures! How cute!’’

“Go shower, Shittykawa.’’ He clicked his tongue. “You’re probably jetlagged, talking all this nonsense.’’

Tooru huffed and left the suitcase next to the couch. “But, Iwa-chan, I don’t know where the shower is.’’ His tone was light-hearted and honey-sweet but once Hajime’s eyes snapped up to his gaze, he found there a glint of something he couldn’t quite place.

He pointed to the bathroom door with a tilt of his head and Tooru nodded, immediately moving towards it.

Hajime turned around towards the kitchen, a half-smile threatening to tug up the corner of his lips.

From Tooru’s dazed look and his bouncy steps, he knew he wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon—at least for the next hour. Maybe a cup of tea would help him relax.

As he put a teabag with different green herbs on a cup, Hajime hummed, hoping Tooru’s overenthusiastic ass didn’t make them wake up at the crack of dawn to start their day to meditate or run or some shit.

 _They had time_ , Hajime mused while putting the kettle on. _They had time._

—

The next day, Hajime got woken up by a weight pressing down on him through the covers, something sharp digging into his hip. He groaned and opened his eyes slowly, looking up and seeing it was Tooru hovering over him, chest pressed flush against him and elbows caging him in.

His face was too close. Tooru’s warm breath hit against his cheeks.

“What the fuck, Tooru?’’ Hajime hissed through gritted teeth, frowning as his lips pursed.

“Iwa-chan, let’s go for a run!’’ Tooru puffed out his cheeks, “Like old times!’’

Hajime’s eyes trailed over his bedside table to see what hour it was; he was still feeling rather tired, and he hadn’t been the one with his ass almost flat against a plane seat.

Red numbers blinked at him almost tauntingly.

 _Shit_.

06:10 AM.

06:10 fucking AM.

Fucking Tooru.

“At fucking 6 AM?’’ Hajime scoffed. “You’re insane.”

“C’mon, Iwa-chan!’’ Hajime pressed his mouth into a thin line, “ _No dejes para mañana lo que puedes hacer hoy,_ you know?” _Don’t let for tomorrow what you can do for today._ Hajime arched his brow at him, quite unimpressed by his words.

Tooru then must’ve seen Hajime determined not to budge nor give in, because he brought up the big guns: shining puppy eyes and a sun-bright grin that quickly turned into a pout as their eyes locked.

Hajime closed his eyes, briefly wondering if he would end up giving in this time. If only for the way his heart thrummed inside his chest at the sight of those bright eyes, he would’ve, probably, under normal circumstances.

But he was so exhausted. Having picked him up at almost 1 AM from the airport.

“You’re still in your pajamas, Tooru!’’

Tooru stilled for a moment, probably by his use of his given name. Then, he shook his head and looked at him through large eyelashes, elbows pressed at Hajime’s sides.

“Well, I can get dressed really quickly.’’ He held up five fingers signaling how little time it would take him, squinting his eyes at him. “Just give me like 5 minutes.”

“No, don’t.’’ Hajime closed his eyes and turned around as much as he could with the weight still on top of him, determined to go back to sleep.

Not a second after, Tooru poked at his sides, making his eyes open up. “Lazy-chan, come on! So so lazy!’’ He jutted his lip out. “You promised to entertain me, and I want to take a run!”

Now, that did make Hajime turn around.

“I didn’t promise.” Tooru huffed, still very—maybe too much—close to his sleep-idled state. Come on, he was only human. “Tooru, it’s vacation, come on. We can go run later.’’ He closed his eyes. Now he had ended up promised something just because of his pout and his whine.

Jesus. He was so weak for him. How he made him so utterly weak without effort, Hajime would never know.

Tooru scoffed, not letting it rest. “Well, I’ll go by myself then.’’ He scoffed, shifting on his place above Hajime and pushing his hands on the bed to propel himself forward. “All by myself…’’ he sing-songed.

Hajime squinted one eye open at him as he watched Tooru trying to get up.

_No. Not now._

He snaked his arms around his waist and hauled him to his side, quickly putting the covers on top of his legs. Tooru yelped, but at least he now laid still next to him.

“Sleep,’’ Hajime looked him straight in the eyes, “We’ll go run later.’’

“Iwa-chan,’’ Tooru’s voice came out breathy, puffing hot against Hajime’s chin, “You’re manhandling me like a brute! And then have the audacity to tell me to go to sleep!’’ He got restless, wiggling around on the bed, probably in hopes of getting his way, in hopes that Hajime gave in.

Hajime rolled his eyes but nodded, smirking at him.

Taking valiant effort—because Hajime was not a coward in anything but one thing maybe—his hand brushed over Tooru’s knuckles and he seemed to immediately stop his movements.

Tooru exhaled through his nose, eyes fixed on Hajime’s as he said, “If we sleep, you promise we can run afterwards?’’ He tilted his head to the side, looking at him with big, wide eyes, “It’s not that I don’t like spending time in this house with you or relaxing, but!’’ His eyes shone brightly. “But! I gotta exercise somehow, you know? I’m an _Olympian_ now.’’ Tooru wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Had Hajime not been sleep-idled and so happy to have Tooru by his side again, he might’ve retorted something wittier—maybe calling him a shitty guy, to try to get his ego slightly grounded.

But Hajime was nothing if not proud of Tooru’s achievements and how hard he had worked for everything he was, so he just grinned and said, “Yes. You are.’’ Tooru’s lips parted slightly, most likely having expected some kind of scolding or bickering from Hajime.

Tooru’s eyes shone and, in hindsight, maybe that was when Hajime’s troubles really started.

Tooru beamed, the skin around his eyes crinkling. His happiness was contagious and his eyes filled with unshed tears in a matter of seconds.

Hajime gulped, something stirring deep inside his chest at the sight of his eyes and lips looking so glossy and wet. But he steeled himself for a moment, since he wasn’t sure if his emotional state was due to happiness or not, despite how bright and shiny his eyes looked so near him.

“Shit. Did I say something wrong?’’

Tooru patted Hajime’s cheek lightly with his two taped fingers. “No, nothing’s wrong.” He sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Then, he added, almost as an afterthought, “I’m really happy to be here right now.’’

Hajime’s breath stuttered inside his chest. How could he—fuck! How could he say such things so easily, so casually?

“Sleep, dumbass.’’

“Okay.” He got further down the covers, snuggling on the pillow. “Just because we’ll run after.’’

After some seconds, Tooru stopped stirring and his eyelids dropped shut, long eyelashes like spiderwebs over his cheeks, exertion from the day before most likely catching up to him. A soft smile was upon his face.

Once Hajime watched how his breath evened out along the soft rise and fall of his chest, a smile tugged up the corners of his own lips.

Sure that Tooru was fast asleep now, Hajime murmured, “I’m really happy to be here right now too.’’

The smile on Tooru’s face didn’t disappear through his sleep.

—

At 10 AM sharp, Hajime woke up to the ring of an alarm and tangled in a mess of long limbs. Through his sleepiness, he noticed something digging into his rib. His eyes opened just to see it was Tooru’s elbow pressing against his navel. Somehow, in the time they had slept together, Tooru had turned around and now, his back laid flush against Hajime’s front, ass against his crotch.

Hajime’s cheeks immediately dusted pink once Tooru shifted and his ass brushed against his hard cock. He stilled, trying not to accidentally rub his cock with him, pulling his crotch back and away.

Tooru exhaled and turned around, now facing him. Hajime’s hand went to move a stray lock of hair from his face when he opened his eyes blearily. Hajime froze, fingers hovering so near his face. Only when Tooru yawned, mouth opened wide and eyes drifting shut did he move again.

His fuel was Tooru’s need to drive him crazy.

“You have no manners,’’ Hajime scoffed. “Jesus fuck.’’

“What? Are you my mom, Iwa-chan?’’ Tooru smirked, “Scolding me for my manners?’’

“Shut up or we won’t go on the run.’’ Hajime rolled his eyes. Then, he added, mischief on his gaze—though he knew Tooru would immediately see through his facade, “I can also kick you out from here any time, you know?’’

Tooru shook his head, disarrayed curls bouncing from side to side. “You won’t. You love me too much.’’ His grin showed the dimples on his cheeks and he leaned forward.

Hajime tried to keep the warmth flooding and threatening to spread through his chest at bay and push his cock as far away as possible. He opted for throwing a pillow to Tooru’s face, which made him screech.

“What the fuck? Such a brute!’’

Hajime waved his hand at him. “I’ll go shower, then you go or we won’t go running.’’

Tooru was still sprawled on the bed, huffing about his grumpiness as Hajime sat up to get out of bed.

—

The thing was, Hajime realized on their 10 AM run, Tooru had gotten really beefier. It wasn’t something foreign to him, but it still tilted his world in its axis each time. Because when he was by his side, Hajime became increasingly aware of it.

Some years ago, Hajime had almost spontaneously combusted when Tooru went to Brazil and would send him status updates each two hours in the form of shirtless selfies that let him stare at his barely sun-kissed chest.

And the sight of his hard abs.

And those damned thighs. Thighs that each day, with each moment spent training hard to achieve his goals became increasingly thick, corded, muscles tight and prominent.

On that morning, Hajime was naturally very tempted to fake exhaustion and start running a few meters behind him, if only to get a glimpse at his thighs and those short shorts framing his ass.

Hajime had tried, though, to slow down his pace, if only to abate his thirst—to satiate the hunger curling hot inside his chest, maybe to satisfy a bit of his yearning.

But Tooru immediately caught up on the way he was staying behind, and taunted him with a cocksure grin on his face. “Look at that! We don’t see each other for like 4 months and Iwa-chan’s become Lazy-chan? Can’t keep up with me, now?”

Hajime squinted at him, scoffing. “We are not all first-string setters, you know?” He picked up his pace, rolling his eyes and quickly starting to jog in front of Tooru. For now, he would give up on trying to get glimpses of corded, thick thighs. He would run next to Tooru.

Immediately, it had become a race to see who got to the top faster—and a different kind of crave furled on Hajime’s chest, wishing to hear the ragged breathing from closer.

Sunlight shone upon their faces as they ran and ran up the streets, lungs burning and ribs aching. From time to time, Tooru clapped his hands together in an intense rhythm and bounced on his feet up and down, claiming to be, “Giving you a chance, Iwa-chan! Since you aren’t an athlete anymore you need a bit of advantage!’’

Hajime jogged next to Tooru through Miyagi’s streets as if they had never stopped running together. And maybe it said something about how in tune they were to each other that Hajime was able to keep in track with him just as fast, despite their very different training regimes.

The bickering and uninhibited laughter coming even through aching lungs reminded Hajime of sunny days spent running together when tournaments got closer, of sweat glistening on their napes and sucking on ice popsicles, of catching bugs and climbing trees, of the exhilaration of scraped knees after an evening of playing outside, of fond memories tucked in the forefront of his mind.

That moment, right there nearing the top of the hill, reminded Hajime so much of home, of acts of love and kindness, he could barely breathe.

He slowed down his pace once they turned down a corner, pace at a match with Tooru’s and he idly realized every memory he had always featured Tooru somehow.

His mind went to that very morning, where they woke up next to each other, at the burning ache in his chest and his cock at waking up next to the only man he had ever loved. Hajime wondered if there would ever be someone that compared, that made him feel like Tooru did with even the slightest glance—but he shook his head. It felt overwhelming sometimes, the way his memories had always been about him, and despite how entwined they were around each other—as if carved into their bone marrow, into their skins and souls—they had still left room for the other to grow.

Hajime ran next to him with the comfort he had always been the one able to keep up with Tooru—his ambition and enthusiasm unparalleled. 

They picked up the pace as they got to the top of the hill. The breeze hitting their faces—and suddenly, it was like they had never been separated for long.

Upon that hill, Hajime reminisced that he had always known Oikawa Tooru was beautiful; an almost objective fact at this point.

But Hajime thought that, on top of the hill they used to run on as kids, sweaty, sun shining upon him and breathing ragged, he looked absolutely breathtaking.

Yet, as Tooru tried to explain a joke that, _“I promise it’s fun! But it only makes sense in Spanish so you gotta listen carefully, Iwa-chan,’’_ Hajime grinned, wondering if he could let him go without wearing his whole heart on his sleeve this time.

—

Once they went back to the house, they were sweating, skin glistening and flushed red. As much as his thoughts drifted far away from him on top of that hill, he had ultimately decided to not do anything for now.

Iwaizumi Hajime was not a coward, but he wasn’t stupid either. Taking risks was fun in theory, but in reality, to tell Tooru about his feelings would cause nothing but a drift in their relationship.

Hajime already didn’t see him that much—his heart accustomed to craving and aching by now—so to not be able to see him anymore…

“That was fun,” Tooru beamed, “We should do that again.”

“Ugh. Shower.”

Tooru rolled his eyes but nodded anyways.

It was fun. It felt good.

That same night, after they showered, they sat down to drink the _yerba mate_ Tooru had brought from Argentina. Hajime entertained him with pinched brows as he sucked the bitter flavor through the straw and Tooru giggled so uninhibitedly happy that Hajime’s heart squeezed. 

Hajime realized that night that, despite having drifted apart, going over oceans and challenges apart, that no country, no scorching South American sun, no different shade of blue held a torch to them.

Nothing held a torch to their connection or his longing, their pink cheeks but a testament to it.

—

Throughout his lifetime, Hajime had become well-versed in about everything there was to know about one Oikawa Tooru.

Living with Tooru was surprisingly… easy at first. Although they hadn’t lived this close together, sharing a space since they were 17, Tooru managed to get accustomed to his habits, relearning them and making them his own into his routine. He was even cleaner than he used to be in high school and made a mean breakfast.

Oikawa Tooru was indeed a very pleasant housemate to have the first few weeks.

What wasn’t easy was the way he became suddenly so affectionate, hanging on him whenever he got the chance, casually brushing against him then and there without a care. Even if they had always been more physically affectionate than most friends, Hajime thought the way Tooru hung so easily around him now, pinching his sides and his cheeks without a warning, not bothering to maintain a greater distance than usual had something to do with the more affectionate ways people behaved in his new home country. 

Hajime had flushed a deep shade of pink the first time Tooru went out to buy something at the grocery store and said goodbye by pressing a kiss against his cheek while yelling, _“Chao, Iwa-chan!’’_

It didn’t become easier for Hajime from there, or his heart. It wasn’t even easy for his cock either.

After that first time they had napped until their morning run time came, they started falling asleep together on Hajime’s bed through Tooru’s stay. After all, Hajime was only human and he had never been good at denying him or his pouty lips, or his shiny eyes.

Tooru had developed a habit of sneaking into his bed and throwing silly excuses to sit on his bed, only for Hajime to roll his eyes and let him into his covers as he demanded they watched a movie or two about aliens— _”Or whatever you want, Iwa-chan! Even Godzilla!’’ he usually said, with a pout_.

Tooru would lean close, having not much room for moving in Hajime’s small bed, and his hair would tickle Hajime’s neck—and he would tremble, flushing red, and immediately standing up, excusing himself to go to the bathroom in hopes he would become less weak to Tooru’s… everything.

Their movie nights inevitably ended with them getting tired and falling asleep next to each other.

This newfound routine of theirs, Hajime mused, of watching Tooru criticizing the special effects of an old movie and then watching how his breath evened out as he fell into a peaceful sleep, long eyelashes striking against his cheeks, felt like coming home on a Friday after a long week at work.

Hajime was only human, and there was so much pining a man could do, mind you. He had been strong in his resolve not to let his feelings interfere in their friendship—his heart would ache but he would end up swallowing up his softer than normal words, his feelings for his best friend.

It became a problem, of course, when they woke up together tangled in a mess of limbs. Hajime started waking up before Tooru and the first thing he would notice was that he had ended up as the big spoon the night before, with Tooru’s ass unconsciously pressed against his morning wood.

The sleepiness and grogginess drifted away and he flushed at the sensation, doing his best to not rocket forward against that ass, let his hands linger on slivers of skin, or brushing too much against their intertwined thighs, pressed together.

Hajime felt consumed by the proximity and the casual touches then and there. Tooru was far too affectionate for Hajime’s poor heart.

He would often parade around his house, shirtless and in short shorts, glistening as he completed his professional-level, hard routines and still having the energy to talk, Hajime’s thoughts naturally went to wonder if there was a time where he stayed quiet and didn’t talk back to anyone that crossed his path.

Hajime brought his cup of tea to his lip and he watched how Tooru unabashedly took off his shirt after finishing his workout. He almost swallowed his tongue at the sight of sweat running down his chest.

That same night, the thought of how Tooru acted when he got fucked hit him like a freight train at night. They were close, laying side by side on the bed and Tooru was chattering at 01 AM about someone he had seen at the grocery store. Hajime already felt languid, would probably end up falling asleep soon, when Tooru, restless and energetic as always, brushed up against him, his thigh sliding in between his legs almost subconsciously.

Hajime’s breath stuttered against his chest and he was suddenly really awake.

Tooru’s eyes were heavy-lidded and glassy, and he kept running his mouth, now talking about a rival team and moving his thigh between his, inching closer and closer. Hajime’s eyes trailed over his face and he wondered if there was a time where he got quiet.

Once Tooru yawned, stretching adorably, like a cat, and a tear fell down his eye, Hajime’s mind went into overdrive. His gaze followed the tear leaving a glistening train on his rosy cheek.

Was he quiet when he got fucked? Or loud? Was he as bratty as usual? Would he be able to talk back if he was gagging on his cock? Would tears burst from his eyes if he got fucked just right?

Tooru kept talking, but the stray tear kept trailing down his cheek. Hajime was barely able to stop himself from reaching out to wipe it with his thumb, but his mind was still clouded.

He had to clear his throat, and his voice came out suddenly low. “Hey, it’s late. We should sleep.’’

Tooru shut his mouth. Hajime could see a retort forming in his mind but he didn’t say anything.

“Night, Iwa-chan.’’

That night, he fell asleep next to Tooru, trying to keep his crotch as far away from brushing against Tooru despite the way he seemed to seek his warmth even while sleeping. It was torturous, this situation, for his poor hard cock.

His dreams were filled with laughter, high-pitched complaints about difficult teammates, and the image of two toothbrushes in a cup on his sink.

—

Hajime pulled from his sleep by Tooru moving around the kitchen, restlessly picking things up then and there, obnoxiously loud at such an early hour. Hajime’s brows furrowed at the noise. He might as well be clashing pans and pot together with all the noise he was making.

Hajime felt grumpy. Not only had he been dragged to morning jogs at ungodly hours for someone supposed to be on a vacation—what had he expected really, he thought while rolling his eyes, this was Tooru they were talking about after all—but now this?

“Are you always this fucking loud?’’

Hajime came into the kitchen, sleep rumpled, and messy bed hair.

Tooru didn’t bat an eyelash from his position, stirring cut up mushrooms on the pan as he hummed a song that Hajime had heard before in an American musical, though he couldn’t say from where exactly.

Tooru smirked. “I’m not always this loud, though you wouldn’t know.’’ Before Hajime could ask anything else or figure out why he looked so mischievous, he yelled back, voice nonchalant, “Good morning, Iwa-chan!’’ At Hajime’s scoff, he pursed his lips and pointed the wooden spoon in his direction, scolding him slightly. _“¿Acaso dormimos juntos que no saludás?’’_

Although Hajime’s Spanish wasn’t perfect, after a moment he was able to make sense of the words. ‘Did we sleep together that you don’t greet me or what?’ Why was he like this? Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re infuriating,’’ he turned around, “We did sleep together, you asshole.’’ He moved to put the kettle on to accompany their mushrooms when Tooru let out a loud screech.

“Iwa-chan!’’ His eyes shone with mirth as he fake gasped, Hajime’s gaze fixed on him. “So bold!’’

His cheeks dusted pink and he could only clench his eyes shut. He had fallen straight into that one.

_God. Have mercy on me, please._

—

A month into living with Tooru, though, Hajime realized he could very much continue learning more and about him each day—the fact he could affirm some months ago that he knew everything about Tooru slightly thwarted.

One, Oikawa Tooru could adapt to different routines.

Two, Oikawa Tooru was fiercely loyal.

Three, Oikawa Tooru had gotten positively more good looking—if that was even possible—in his time away from Japan.

Four, Oikawa Tooru was fucking loud.

Five, Hajime found himself fighting his compulsory need to wonder if Tooru got quieter or louder under different circumstances.

The four first things were irrevocable facts, true and obvious if you looked at him long enough.

But the last one was driving him crazy.

It came to a screeching halt on one Thursday morning.

One of Tooru’s new routines consisted of him parading around the apartment as he wished. Despite the ache it caused on his cock, Hajime never complained, preferring to try to avoid basking at the sight as much as possible.

A yelp came from the bathroom and Hajime stood up from the couch immediately. He turned around and Tooru came out of the bathroom, clutching his finger between a towel.

Dressed in nothing else but a towel.

Stray droplets of water cascaded down the broad expanse of his chest, down to his abs. The towel around his waist was white, thread-thin, and fucking tiny—it barely covered his crotch—and the knot keeping it in place looked outright flimsy, dangerous for Hajime’s sanity, as if the slightest movement would make it fall to the floor and let him naked for Hajime to see. Through the side slit of the towel Hajime could see his thighs, corded muscles taut and skin absolutely glistening. 

His forehead was bare, hair slicked back by the water and his pout was prominent, bottom lip glistening.

His mouth watered at the sight. Even his good strength and patience could prove thin at this.

Hajime was no stranger to Oikawa Tooru as a whole; after all, he had been a constant his whole life. If someone were to ask him, he would even dare say he knew Tooru better than himself. And that night, standing still and unmoving in his living room, Hajime thought of another thing to add to his list: six, Oikawa Tooru was fucking unfair.

Hajime’s mouth ran dry as his eyes continued to linger and stray. His nape felt suddenly really warm once he saw the V cutting underneath his belly button, like a dangerous neon sign towards all that hid underneath the towel, as if he had been the one just getting out of a scorching hot shower and not Tooru, who looked as fresh as mint despite his state of undress.

He cleared his throat, trying to fight the warmth traveling up his neck to his cheeks.

Tooru bit his lip, and said, “I hurt my finger.’’

Hajime blinked. Right. Tooru had let out an awful noise, that was why he had stood up in the first place, because he had gotten hurt in the shower.

Not to ogle him shamelessly.

“Did you cut it?’’

“I don’t know.’’ Tooru shrugged and Hajime damned the night he had let him stay in his house. The way his muscles rippled at the gesture… the way his abs were so solid they didn’t even move as he shrugged. Jesus. “But it hurts.’’

Blinking away the fogginess of his brain, Hajime moved forward and grabbed him by the wrist. He quickly dragged him to his room, and Tooru followed.

He closed the door and moved around the place, going to his desk. He pulled a first aid kit.

“Sit,’’ Hajime said, gesturing to his bed.

Tooru moved and sat, still clad in nothing but his towel.

Since it was getting late, Hajime probably should’ve told him to get dressed while he continued to look for alcohol and a band-aid. But—he thought, peeking at Tooru from his peripheral vision, sitting on his bed almost naked and looking straight out of his dreams—he sometimes could allow himself to be selfish.

Hajime turned around, steeled himself, and moved towards him. He supported his knee on the bedsheets and sat next to Tooru, leg pressed against leg.

He grabbed an oxygenated water-coated piece of cotton between his fingers and put his palm up and open towards Tooru, in hopes he would get the message and put his fingers.

“Whatcha got there, Iwa-chan?’’ Tooru tilted his head to the side.

Hajime’s eyebrows furrowed. He was no longer cradling the towel around his finger but sitting by propping his hands behind him, legs slightly open ajar.

“Didn’t your finger hurt, asshole?’’ Hajime spat through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe this.’’

Tooru’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “Oh, yes. Here.’’ He put his finger on his outstretched palm.

Hajime grabbed his hands, moving it gently and scrutinizing the skin, trying to see if any cut or bruise was forming on the skin. When he found none, he huffed, “Jesus Christ, Tooru. You had your hand pushed on the bed. Does it even hurt?’’

“Seriously, it hurts!’’ Tooru whined, “Can you kiss it better?’’

Hajime’s eyes widened as he stilled. Something akin to panic started bubbling up his chest. Although they sometimes bantered, hugged, and were really close, he had never been this close to Tooru’s slightly glassy eyes as he… flirted with him?

Instead of complying, to salvage his poor heart of any possible ache, he said, “No.’’

Tooru’s lip wobbled. “C’mon, Iwa-chan!’’ His voice carried through slightly high-pitched, the sound reverberating straight into Hajime’s heart.

Fuck.

“Absolutely not.’’ Yet, he hadn’t let go of his finger. He shook his head and was about to let go when Tooru’s hands grabbed onto his shirt.

In a swift motion, Tooru was on his back, having pulled Hajime onto him with his greedy hands grabbing him by the shirt.

Hajime’s gaze stayed fixed on his face

“Jesus, why are you clutching me like this?”

“Don't you remember,” Tooru’s eyebrows furrowed, “That night that you offered to let me stay in your room?”

Hajime pursed his lips. “You know I meant house.”

“That’s not the point! If you’re housing me, you need to make sure I’m not hurt!’’ Tooru reasoned, brows pinched, “I’ll be an Olympian, you know? If I get hurt while under you—’’

“But you aren’t hurt! Now let go.’’ Hajime’s frown deepened, trying to wiggle out of his greedy hands, “Let go or I’m gonna crush you. I swear, Tooru.’’

Hajime heard, almost in slow motion, how the words left Tooru’s lips before he had time to think things through. 

“Yes, please.’’ His voice came out breathless along with the plea.

Tooru’s mouth, Hajime realized, was as dangerous as the glint of mischief in his eyes.

Silence settled around them as Hajime could only focus on Tooru below him, eyes wide and looking flushed. Some drops of water were still clinging to his skin and he looked delicious—wet and shining.

Naturally, Hajime went still, at their position, at Tooru’s words, at the heat crawling up his chest. Then, he blinked. 

Once. 

Twice.

“What?’’

“I mean…” Tooru trailed off, still looking into his eyes. “Yes, please?’’ He smiled slightly, though a frown quickly replaced his bashful expression as Hajime didn’t react.

Hajime’s eyes moved down to his eyes, heavy-lidded and wanton. Tooru gulped underneath him, eyes staring straight into his soul and Hajime could only imagine his own eyes reflecting the ravenous feeling threatening to claw out of his chest.

Just then, Hajime saw how ragged Tooru looked underneath him. His mouth slightly parted, lips red and shimmering. Wanton could be seen through his pupils blown wide, through his heavy-lidded eyelashes.

_Oh._

In a moment of clarity, he thought back on how he had decided that day they were running that he wouldn’t bear his feelings.

Hajime hummed, coming to a decision right and there. What happened next, Hajime would blame it on the way Tooru started whining again, red-bitten lip slightly jutting, eyes glassy, and the way he was so close, so much flushed and wet and tantalizing skin on display.

Though maybe the blame should go to his poor heart.

And his cock.

_Definitely his cock._

Locking eyes with Tooru, he grabbed the hand fisted on his shirt. Hajime locked eyes with him, knowing well enough that reverence and devotion would most likely shine through in them, and he grabbed his supposedly injured finger.

“I’m going to kiss it better, then.”

Hajime could only watch as Tooru’s breath came out of his mouth in a warm puff. 

Hajime had officially lost it, probably, at that moment. Because as soon as Tooru nodded in encouragement, cheeks pinker by the minute, he did just that; he brought Tooru’s fingers towards his mouth.

The moment his red lips pressed a soft, gentle kiss against the fingertips, it felt like a long time coming.

“Iwa-chan…” Tooru’s voice came off breathless, making Hajime still for a moment, eyes settling on him and his glassy gaze, “Iwa-chan.” He repeated the action as Tooru’s breath was hot against his own mouth. “Ha—Hajime… Yes.” 

Tooru saying his name—breathing it out like it was the last thing he ever wanted to utter—was all the encouragement Hajime needed to continue moving. His kisses went down the length of his digit, butterfly-like yet weighing more than the thousand words he wanted to say at the moment.

“I don’t think it’s injured,” Hajime breathed over the fingerpad, pressing a wet kiss against the digit, “But I need to make sure.”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see Tooru’s expression just yet _—he might as well just come from his ravenous look. Hell, he was only human—_ so he trailed down the finger with his mouth, leaving open-mouthed kisses over the length of Tooru’s finger.

He looked up and saw Tooru nodding so fervently it almost made him chuckle. Hajime’s tongue peeked out of his mouth, his wet tongue twirling around the finger.

When Tooru sucked in a deep breath, Hajime moved to the tip. His lips parted slightly around the tip and Tooru’s finger slid in easily into his mouth, with a _pop!_ and a groan that might as well stay in his mind forever from now on.

His tongue was wet around the finger as Hajime sucked on it, cheeks hollowing out around it. Hajime didn’t say nor murmur anything around him, there was no need to. Tooru sucking in a deep breath as they locked eyes let him know he got the intention behind sucking his finger so thoroughly clear.

_I would suck your cock like this._

He let go of the finger with a _pop!_ and smacked his lips together afterward. Tooru’s finger fell limp to the side and he gulped, no doubt by the realization of the precarious position they were in.

They stayed still, Hajime hovering over him and Tooru looked up at him, back pressed to the bed, still clad in that damn, tiny towel for a moment. Then, a stray drop of water traveled down the arch of Tooru’s nose to his lips, bringing Hajima’s gaze to them. He groaned at how soft they looked. How delicious they might taste.

Since Hajime was no coward and Tooru had already done enough by flirting with him, even taking the first step regardless of how poor of an excuse he had made, this next move was on him.

Promptly, Hajime ground his hips against Tooru’s, and a thrill went down his spine as their cocks brushed together for the first time—even through the layers of fabric. An exhilaration like nothing he had experienced before rushed to his head and soon enough, they were both moaning in harmony, desperately rutting against each other.

They moved up and down against each other, still parallel on the bed. Hajime rubbed his nose against Tooru’s neck and he said, without a second thought, “I love your hands.’’

Now that he could voice his thoughts—if Tooru’s expression and eagerness was any indication—Hajime would be nothing if not honest now. Having wasted so much time biting his tongue, going against his desires for so long, and now finally being able to? He wouldn’t hold back now.

Then and there, in Hajime’s home—in their hometown, nonetheless—he discovered some more things he didn’t know about Tooru.

They never broke eye contact as Hajime moved slightly up and towards his mouth. Gazing into each other’s eyes, their noses brushed together as they got closer, nothing less than a breath away. His lips descended wickedly upon him. He took Tooru’s hum and his parting lips as an invitation to push his tongue over his reddened mouth, licking and lapping on his lower lip. Tooru opened his mouth wide almost in command as his tongue prodded in the middle. Soon enough, Hajime’s wet, pink tongue slid into the wet heat of his mouth without much effort.

Tooru let out a moan that went straight to his cock.

Hajime then learned that Tooru kissed with such characteristic hunger, almost ravenous and so, _so_ greedy as he did all things he considered worth his time. His mouth was inviting and warm, his arms going around Hajime’s shoulders to push flush against him. A moan slipped out as he pushed his leg between Tooru’s wicked thick thighs, eager to be as pressed against each other as possible. As his tongue lapped against the roof of his mouth, around his teeth, sucking on his tongue, Hajime thought he could build a home from the ground with Oikawa Tooru’s kisses alone.

He watched the way his eyes fluttered shut as he got kissed, the light hum and rumble off his chest when Hajime’s fingers carded through his hair. Hajime wanted to burn the image of his mouth opening slightly while he ground his cock against his and of the nothing short of addictive sensation of his broad grin against his forehead as Hajime nibbled on his jaw.

Hajime found then and there that a mirth unlike everything he had seen before filled Tooru’s eyes and his giggle came out breathy if he sucked on his lower lip. Apparently, he had been forgoing a particular part of Tooru all these years and he became heady as he wondered how he had been bearing without it all these years.

His hand slipped down Tooru’s side, squeezing his hips slightly as he moved away once a sudden thought came to his mind upon tasting a droplet of water gliding down his neck. He started pulling away when Tooru’s hand on his nape stopped him, a panicked look striking in his eyes as he tried to maintain eye contact.

“Iwa-chan, please don’t go.’’ His voice was high-pitched as he added, “I got carried away, we can talk about this.’’

“I’m not,’’ Hajime reassured him, not even resisting the smirk pulling on his face, “I’m not going anywhere. Just wait.’’

Tooru sighed, apparently relieved at Hajime’s words. His hands stretched forward in front of him, and he pouted, beckoning him closer to his glistening frame. Hajime would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t feeling the same urgency to be pressed together and never let go.

“You’re wet.’’ Hajime gestured at him, propped up on his bed unabashedly, thread-thin towel still somehow covering precious skin and his hard cock.

“Yes,’’ Tooru smirked, chuckling lightly and tilting his head to the side, “I am.’’

Rolling his eyes, Hajime fully stood up from the bed. “You’re so…’’

“Beautiful?’’ Tooru provided, “You have told me so basically, just now when you sucked on my fingers.’’

Hajime arched his brows but didn’t stop his movements towards his closet. He opened the door and took out a large blue towel, turning around to show it to Tooru.

“Oh.’’ Tooru’s mouth parted slightly, knitted eyebrows relaxing. _“Ohhhhhhh.’_ ’ He nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

“Yes. You’re literally wet because you just showered.’’

A chuckle came out of Tooru’s mouth as Hajime strode towards the bed again, climbing over him while supporting himself by his elbows.

With gentle hands and humming underneath his breath, he pressed the towel against Tooru’s chest. Once, twice, sporadic pressure down to his navel and up over his arms with almost practiced ease.

“Thought the whole purpose of this was getting me wet, Iwa-chan,’’ he arched his delicately shaped eyebrow at him and puffed his cheeks adorably, “not the contrary.’’

Hajime didn’t even give a response, instead, he slid down and pushed the towel harder against the corded muscles of his thighs, drying the droplets away.

“I can’t do this knowing you could get sick.’’

Hajime huffed, then rolled his eyes when Tooru cooed, “How cute.”

“Why are you so infuriating?’’ Beneath him, framed by Hajime’s elbows around his thighs, Tooru shrugged and leaned backward. Hajime continued to move the towel, drying the stray droplets on his legs with care, slowly and surely dragging it down his calves.

His fingers lingered on his thighs and Hajime leaned slightly, pressing a kiss to the skin atop the corded muscle. He pressed open-mouthed, wet kisses onto the skin, feeling ravenous for everything he gave him—feasting on Tooru’s thighs like a last meal.

His tongue was wet and hot as it caressed Tooru’s skin slowly but surely, tongue pushing against the ridges and planes of his stomach until he was completely covered in slick trails of saliva. His nose pressed against his navel.

“Can you dry my cock too, while you’re at it?’’ Tooru’s voice and his words hit him like lighting and Hajime snapped his head at him. “It's wet too. I could get sick or whatever, Iwa-chan.’’ He wiggled his eyebrows.

Hajime exhaled through his nose and looked up only to find Tooru with his arms crossed by the wrists above his head, a toothy grin etched on his face.

“You’re a menace.’’

“Well, yeah.’’ Tooru shrugged. “If you won’t do it, though, I will.’’

The dark brown of Hajime’s eyes glinted bright, pupils blown wide at the idea of sucking Tooru’s cock. He tried to pull back to do just that but Tooru shook his head, putting his hands up.

“Okay, I’ll stop. Just don’t go too far away.’’ His hand reached out, fingers twitching. “I think you did a good job on drying me, too,’’ he said, nonchalant.

Tooru looked so eager below him, Hajime wasn’t sure he could get away with sucking his cock down his throat without instantly coming in his pants. So, instead, he trailed his hand down and removed the towel currently covering him.

Instantly, Tooru’s cock sprung tall and already leaking from underneath the towel, as if the only thing confiding his length, stopping it from jumping against Hajime, had been the towel.

Stretching and hovering over Tooru, Hajime pushed his weight onto his arm as he stretched his right hand to push open the drawer of his bedside table, immediately sliding his hand in and probing around for the bottle of lube he always kept at hand just in case. Once he grabbed it, he uncapped it and poured a small bead within his fingers.

Pushing his fingers together, he swirled the liquid around in circles until the lube got warmer in his hand. Then, once it was warm enough, he spread the liquid over his palm, coating it completely in lube.

Hajime’s wet hand wrapped completely around Tooru’s shaft, eliciting low pants and gasps from him as Hajime continued sliding down and up his large cock, lube making the slide of his grip easy. Once Hajime picked up the pace, he watched with rapt attention as a shuddering gasp left Tooru’s parted lips and his breathing became more ragged, filling the room with only his sounds. Hajime slowed down, deliberately pressing his fingers around the cockhead and Tooru’s eyes drooped shut.

Then, he stopped moving altogether.

“No,’’ Hajime snapped and Tooru’s eyes opened immediately. “Eyes on me, Tooru.’’

Tooru nodded, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in his mouth and looking down at Hajime’s hand still around his cock. His eyes were glassy and filled with tears as Hajime quickened his pace, his own hand palming himself through his sweats.

“Yes, yes—’’ another tug, “—fuck! Hajime, yes! Hmm—’’

Suddenly, Hajime stopped.

“Again, Iwa-chan?’’ came Tooru’s whine, low in his throat, “I’m looking at you. Fuck.’’

“If we continue like this, you’ll come,’’ Hajime deadpanned, brows furrowed and Tooru opened his mouth to retort when Hajime added, “I want you to come on my cock.’’

Humming and hovering above him, Hajime couldn’t contain himself from pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

Tooru groaned, rolling his eyes, likely at Hajime’s softness. Soon enough, he turned the tables on him with a quick twirl.

Hajime found himself on his back, blinking up at Tooru’s vicious grin. Well, he had forgotten about the sheer strength Tooru had.

 _“Mucha ropa.’’_ Tooru pursed his lips at him, his hand immediately trying to push his shirt up his abdomen, scratching his nails against his abs and Hajime got the signal. He had been so consumed in Tooru he had forgotten he was still very much dressed. 

In a quick motion, he pulled his shirt by the neck and threw it to the side.

“That’s so hot, Iwa-chan. Damn.’’ Tooru’s fingers dug into his waistband and snapped it against his skin a few times, trying to make Hajime pull it off.

Rolling his eyes, he pulled his hips off the bed and shimmied the pants off his legs, kicking them at the end of his bed. His fingers pushed into his boxer briefs and he pulled it down in one swift motion.

Tooru’s mouth parted and he licked his lips as he watched Hajime’s cock slipping free off his boxers.

There, Tooru leaned over, grinning wickedly at him as he trailed trimmed fingernails down Hajime’s taut abdomen. Something in Hajime’s heart pulled tight, like a string, and he shuddered as he felt his cockhead getting wetter by the second. 

“So sensitive.’’ Tooru hummed, fingers going dangerously downwards and downwards, down to the V shape over his cock. His fingertip against his navel made his hips jerk involuntarily on the bed, the bedsheets dragging against his ass.

“Now,’’ Tooru beamed, corners of his eyes crinkling, “it’s my turn to touch you. You had enough fun.’’

He propped himself up on his elbows and Hajime watched with rapture and bated breath as Tooru’s nose pressed against his navel.

He moved slowly, from his neck to his navel, leaving scorching, open-mouthed wet kisses in its wake. The sound of his lips opening and closing on the planes of his stomach left him feeling dazed, and his head fell backwards, his nape now against the pillow.

Without a warning, Tooru’s greedy, greedy hands grabbed his shaft. Hajime hissed through clenched teeth.

Tooru suddenly stood up, sitting back on his knees and Hajime blinked owlishly at him.

“Here’s the deal. Can I fuck your thighs?’’ He bit his lower lip, pulling on it slightly. “And you fuck my ass? Then tomorrow you do me and I do you.’’

Hajime spluttered, cackling and Tooru frowned. Hajime’s hand went up to his mouth and he tried to calm his explosive laughter. Once he calmed down, he saw Tooru with his arms crossed, looking at him as serious as he could.

“Okay, we can do that. Sorry. It’s just…’’ Hajime trailed off, gesturing around, “it was hilarious, the way you said that.’’

“Yeah, whatever.’’ Tooru rolled his eyes, then he grinned, all teeth showing. “Can I fuck your thighs now?’’

Hajime nodded, stretching his arm to feel around for the bottle of lube on the bedside table. His fingers rummaged and he touched a foil texture that reminded him of something. Finally, he found the lube against one of the corners and he pushed it towards Tooru’s open palm.

“I’m clean.” Hajime nodded at him, tapping his fingers over his thighs. “Got tested 6 months ago and haven’t been with anyone since.”

“Good.” Tooru smiled. “Me too.”

They didn’t say it, but 6 months ago had been right around the time Hajime traveled to Argentina, and it hung heavy in the air. Just another excruciating reminder of how oblivious they had been.

A dollop of lube smeared over Tooru’s open palm and he leaned down with a feral grin on his face as he blew a breath against his hard cock.

Arching his brow, Hajime huffed. “Weren’t you so eager to fuck my thighs?”

“So impatient, Iwa-chan,” he grinned, “I know you’re eager to get fucked but—”

“Okay, shut up. I get it.”

The chuckle that escaped Tooru’s parted lips reverberated against the tip of his cock, breath fanning around him.

Humming, Tooru continued moving downwards, pressing kisses just shy away from his cock. He bit slightly on his right thigh and Hajime yelped, brows furrowing.

Open palms slicked up his thighs with a swift motion. Tooru’s brow pinched as he slathered all of his skin, basking in the sensation of having Hajime’s thighs under his hands.

Soon, his thighs were drenched in lube after Tooru rubbed the skin thoroughly. Tooru’s hands went to his side and pushed them together, the motion making Hajime’s cock twitch, his abs tightening.

Content with his handiwork, Tooru leaned forward and pressed a peck against the skip atop Hajime’s thighs. Then, another featherlight, brief open-mouthed suck on his cockhead.

Just as quickly, he pushed away from Hajime’s crotch by supporting his palms on his thighs and quickly moved behind him, palms pressing on Hajime's shoulderblades.

“Okay, now,” Tooru whispered against his ear from behind, making a blush rise to Hajime’s cheeks, “put your thighs together as much as you can.”

Hajime complied, pressing his thighs tightly, feeling slightly strange, cold at the wetness of the lube rubbing on his skin with each slight twitch. Tooru grabbed his hip. “Don’t move until I tell you.”

Slowly, the head of Tooru’s cock pushed through the small gap below his ass, his length sliding warm and heavy against the lube. He canted his hips forward until his cock stood nestled and pressing deliciously heavy against the tender skin of his thighs.

Hajime moaned once Tooru chuckled by his ear. _Fuck._

He lifted his hand from its place on the bed sheet, trailing down towards his cock. Although he couldn’t see from his position, he pushed deft fingers in the space right below his sac. There, his fingers found Tooru’s cock sitting and he prodded his thumb against the slit. His breath stuttered against his chest at the heady sensation.

Hajime closed his eyes, thumb hovering over the sensitive head as much as he could reach.

“I’m gonna move now,’’ Tooru whispered against his ear, “I’m gonna fuck you now.’’

The eagerness with which Hajime nodded would’ve embarrassed him, had he not been so far gone in the overwhelming sensation of Tooru—finally—sliding and fucking him between his thighs, each thrust deliberate and purposeful.

Tooru’s fingers dug harder on the meat of his hips as he picked up his pace and started thrusting in between his thighs. Slow first, then increasing the pace as Hajime’s breathing became more labored.

“You feel so good, Hajime.’’ Tooru hummed, hands going around the planes of Hajime’s chest and thrusting again. Hajime crossed his ankles, pressing his thighs tighter together. “I love—I love how you clench around me. Ah—’’

Once Tooru’s mouth fell rampant upon his shoulders, pressing kisses on his shoulder blades as he continued fucking into him, Hajime quickly felt his pleasure building up inside him. He was suddenly really close, about to burst at the amalgamation of sensations filling the room—the sounds of his cock sliding between his slippery thighs, the heat of lips pressing upon his shoulders, and Tooru’s warmth around him suddenly too much.

He was so tempted to not say anything, to unravel like this—with Tooru’s cock sliding obscenely between his clenched thighs—to have Tooru continue fucking him, pushing his cockhead against his sac, but the errant, constant thought of not being able to cum inside him was deterrent enough.

“Enough,’’ Hajime managed to say, pushing the fogginess that had taken over away.

Tooru nodded against his shoulders. After, he pushed his hips backwards, sliding his cock out of Hajime’s slippery gap.

He propped himself on his elbows and looked at Hajime, still breathing with difficulty on the mattress.

Hajime turned around and he squeezed Tooru’s hand tightly, shooting a reassuring smile his way.

Tooru leaned over him, pushing his mouth into Hajime’s mouth and threading his fingers through his hair. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, humming and practically purring against his lips.

Hajime pulled back from the kiss, a stray trail of saliva connecting their reddened lips. His eyes fixed on Tooru’s. His blown wide pupils didn’t surprise him, nor did the spit trailing down the corner of his lips.

He looked utterly debauched. Hajime’s cock twitched at the sight, craning his neck and directing Tooru gently by the hands to the bed. Tooru went willingly, flopping with his back on it.

Hajime’s mouth became dry at the sight of Tooru in front of him, deliciously spread over the bedsheets, looking like sin and so unusually quiet—as if his life depended on how silent he was. Eyes so, _so_ glassy.

It had always been a favorite of his, the way Tooru’s irreverence could be so tantalizing sometimes. He would often get away with it, especially regarding Hajime. After all, Tooru knew he had always had the upper hand on him.

But to have him silent, almost in awe and feeling heady was another thing entirely.

Hajime’s thighs trembled at the sight of Tooru looking at him from below; he wasn’t totally sure it was due to the fucking he had just had either.

His tongue became dry inside his mouth. Eyebrows pinched together, he slowly but surely brought his index finger to Tooru’s awaiting mouth after caressing the reddened lips with the pad of his thumb.

Hajime’s fingertips ghosted over Tooru’s chin up towards his mouth. He traced his jawline with featherlight touches.

With a smirk of his own, his other hand moved to the sides of Tooru’s stomach and his finger scratched lightly in between his ribs.

It was automatic, the way Tooru’s mouth opened in a laugh, and Hajime’s fingers entered the wet, warm heat of his mouth in a blink.

Tooru’s laughter easily fell into a moan. His gaze was dazed and his pupils blown wide, wanting for everything Hajime had to give him. Tooru’s mouth closing around Hajime’s finger, wet and hot, pulled a moan of his own from him.

“Open up,’’ he commanded, low on his throat, and Tooru was too weak for him not to open his mouth wider.

Hajime's finger slid in further and his cock was so hard and red it had become almost painful, crying out for relief in the form of drops of pre-come coming from the tip.

He pushed his finger past red-bitten lips and Tooru’s mouth closed around his digit, his velvety mouth feeling slick and warm and perfect around him.

Hajime hummed, tongue peeking out wet against his lower lip and Tooru was unrelenting. He let out a chuckle, full of mirth.

Tooru babbled around his finger, not wanting to let go just yet; his eyebrows were drawn together and his eyelids drooped shut. Hajime couldn’t be sure what he had tried to say, his tongue instead continued swirling around his calloused finger, lapping.

Hajime’s eyelids almost shut at the sensation but this sight—this sight… He had been waiting for this for so long, he wasn’t planning on missing the chance to see Tooru drooling around him, cock red and hard and leaking.

The feeling of his tongue swirling around his finger was heady. Hajime idly wondered if Tooru would be this good, this thorough at sucking his cock, if he could take him farther despite the fact his fingers were less wide than his cock.

That thought spurred him on and he tapped his index finger against Tooru’s tongue. Tooru’s eyes went back to him and he looked at him through wet eyelashes and—fuck. He looked delicious, flushed and thighs spread wickedly on the bed.

He looked exposed, cockhead shining enticingly slick with pre-come. The way he looked up at him through hooded eyes made his mind go into overdrive.

But he thought a pass was due, after all. He could bet no one would be able to not become painfully hard at the sight of Tooru’s eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes long and beautiful against his cheeks as he sucked on Hajime’s spit-slick finger with drool running down the corner of his lips.

Hajime’s breath tightened inside his chest and he prodded his finger further inside Tooru’s mouth, tapping lightly against his tongue.

His eyelids fluttered open at the motion.

“Can I?’’ Hajime hummed. Tooru must’ve understood, because he nodded and opened his pink lips so Hajime could push his finger further inside his mouth.

The digit went down almost to his throat and the sight of Tooru there, mouth open and drooling around him, taking him further and further without a sign of a gag reflex made Hajime’s cock twitch.

The sharp edge of his jaw looked more alluring than ever as Hajime hummed, relishing in the way Tooru looked so utterly debauched below him, mouth stuffed full and eager for more.

Tooru was at his most beautiful when his bright, chocolate-like eyes became heavy-lidded as his mouth closed around Hajime's fingers, drool coating his digits, and the way his eyelids fluttered shut as Hajime filled him completely.

“Perfect.’’ Hajime couldn’t help but say.

Tooru’s mouth parted slightly and Hajime had to clear his throat and look away, but his ears dusted pink anyways.

He pressed himself flush against Tooru.

“I need to put my fingers inside you,’’ he said, “So I can fuck you.’’

Hajime watched, with rapture, as Tooru looked up at him from the bed and nodded.

“Iwa-chan, please.’’ His eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Hajime swallowed around his dry tongue.

Although he was sure he could list a lot of things he had learned from Tooru, in this room where they had spent the last few weeks dancing around each other, Hajime felt nothing short of ravenous at the idea of discovering how Tooru’s tight heat engulfing him whole would feel like.

His cock was already hard and leaking as Hajime smeared lube between his fingertips. Humming lightly, he directed his finger against Tooru’s hole, just shy of the entrance. His lube-coated finger entered tight heat with reverence, the stretch welcome and delicious. The slide was easy, one thrust, and Tooru gasped, his moan going straight to Hajime’s cock.

As Hajime’s finger started slowly moving inside, deeper, a high-pitched moan came out straight out of Tooru’s throat and he watched how his cockhead became wetter, drenched in the smeared pre-come.

He finger-fucked him thoroughly, thrusting up against him. His cock was painfully hard, aching to be inside Tooru, stretching him open.

When Tooru had to go back to Argentina and he felt empty, Hajime wanted to make sure nothing came close to feeling as good as him filling him completely, overwhelming all his senses. His cock throbbed at the thought.

Tooru gasped once he split his fingers, stretching him open. He needed to get his hole pliant enough to easily slide his cock afterwards, so he scissored inside with quick motions, humming lowly underneath his breath. 

Hajime had three fingers knuckle deep up his hole and Tooru gasped at each thrust. When he sighed, leaning his head on the pillow, Hajime sighed in unison.

“Yes. Okay, I’m gonna fuck you now.’’

Tooru looked up blearily at him. “Finally!’’ Tooru threw a toothy grin his way.

“You still have so much sass in you? After I finger fucked you like that? Jesus...’’ Hajime shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Why am I even in love with you?’’

Suddenly, Tooru became really still, his cock bobbing helplessly against his stomach. The headiness of their foreplay somehow drifted away with Hajime’s confession, and Tooru said, voice low, “You’re in love with me?’’

Hajime gulped. Well, no way he could back away now.

If he needed to wear his heart on his sleeve… might as well go all the way now.

“Thought that was obvious by now.’’

“Fuck. Me too. So much.’’ Hajime’s eyes widened as he processed his words. Tooru gasped, stray tears wetting his eyelashes, long against his cheeks—Hajime’s hips twitched against him, cocks brushing against each other at the sight of his eyes looking so enticing, syrupy. “I know nothing else but you,” his eyes were glistening, his voice soft, “Fuck me, please.’’

Hajime nodded, pressing a kiss against Tooru’s lips before pushing his legs open. He put himself between them, trailing his still wet fingers down Tooru’s skin.

He took his time biting into his neck before he lined up his cock against Tooru’s sopping hole.

As Hajime’s cockhead pressed against the tight ring of muscle and with a thrust of his hips, he pushed into him slowly, reverently, and his hand went to grip Tooru’s as he went past the rim. Tooru’s mouth parted, his eyes wet and dazed, suddenly becoming really quiet at the sensation of being so full, nothing other than moans filling the room. Tooru squeezed around him once he went up to the hilt, bottoming out against him.

Entranced, he looked down at where their bodies joined. His breath stuttered at the sight of his cock disappearing inside Tooru with each thrust, stretching him wide.

The sight of Tooru’s parted lips and the wetness on his eyes as Hajime’s cock slipped past his rim, being split open by _his_ cock as he pushed all the way into the hilt, was nothing short of a religious experience.

Hajime discovered it was a heady, delicious sensation to be finally inside Tooru—but he needed to be closer, to feel his warmth around him. Hajime leaned down and pushed his nose against Tooru’s neck, his hum reverberating against the column of his neck.

“You’re taking me so well, baby,’’ Hajime hummed, “Like you were made for me. For my cock. So good,’’ his grunt made Tooru let out a moan, “You—you feel so good.’’

Hajime circled his hand around pink nipples, fingertips caressing the hard buds. Tooru was already sensitive from his ministrations, so the sudden attention on his chest made him clench around Hajime’s cock, eyelids drooping shut.

“Eyes on me.” Hajime’s voice was serious and Tooru opened his eyes, lids lead-like heavy. “Beautiful.” Hajime’s breath hit hot against his face, making Tooru’s cock twitch at the praise.

Tooru’s breath hitched in his throat and he threw his head back, squeezing around him. Tooru’s tight heat wrapped so tightly, so damned tight, felt scorching enough to make Hajime cant his hips desperately against him. Hajime’s eyes clenched shut at the warm tight heat squeezing around his cock.

“So tight.’’ He hummed, hands dipping in the ridges of Tooru’s hips. “So tight for me, baby.’’ Tooru’s hands went up to his neck, and he pushed Tooru closer to him by his shoulders, legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer and closer—

Hajime thrust in, slowly and carefully. Although he had made a thorough job of preparing him, he didn’t want this to be painful.

Again, his eyes slid down to where Hajime’s cock effortlessly thrust into Tooru’s twitching, sopping, tight hole.

The sight of Tooru being split open by _his_ cock made his mouth water.

_Oh._

“If I knew you would get this quiet while taking my dick…’’ Hajime trailed off, his nose trailing down Tooru’s cheeks to his neck, “Maybe I would’ve fucked you sooner.”

Tooru scoffed, still panting. “Oh, shut up.’’ He rolled his eyes. “We were both oblivious idiots, that’s why.’’ He added, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth, “You more than me, though.’’

A sudden thought came up to his mind.

“That morning,’’ Hajime grunted, thrusting up into Tooru’s tight heat with fervor, fingernails digging into his hips, “When you said the quiet thing... Were you flirting with me?’’

“Haji—ah! Fuck, yes! There!’’ Tooru hummed, drool pooling at the corners of his lips as his nails dug into Hajime’s asscheeks, pulling him closer to him. Hajime chuckled. “Yes. I was flirting. Been flirting with you for years,’’ he rolled his eyes, “Thanks for noticing now.’’ He puffed his cheeks.

So infuriatingly cocky. 

From this angle, fucking Tooru while looking him in the face, Hajime’s fingers trailed over Tooru’s chest up towards his chin and he anchored there.

As he continued thrusting up into him, Tooru became flushed red in exertion. Tears leaked from his eyes, leaving a crystal-like trail on his rosy cheeks. Hajime’s cock twitched, something hot and unfurling clenching deep in his gut.

Tooru’s cock twitched against his stomach and Hajime’s breath stuttered against his chest. He was so close, so close to coming only by his cock hitting him just right.

“Fuck!’’ Tooru screamed, eyes shutting tightly, tongue lolling out of his mouth as his hips jerked, spurting white trails of cum between their stomachs. Immediately, Hajime’s own release was pulled from him at the sensation of Tooru’s warm release against his stomach. They went through the aftershocks together between crimson colored sheets, as easily as someone who had been separated and yearned for their other piece of a soul could.

White exploded in their vision as they finally released the build-up, the crescendo of it peaking seconds apart. Hajime felt lightheaded at the high, his cock pulsed in the aftershocks and a rush went on his mind as he spilled inside Tooru, hot and scorching and electrifying.

He fell on top of Tooru after his hips jerked forward, forehead falling pressed against his chest. Tooru’s fingers carded through his hair with a hum.

Pressing a soft, featherlight kiss against his chest, Hajime raised his head and locked eyes with him. His skin was sweat-beaded wet, but his gaze looked soft, softer than anyone had the right to look just after being fucked out of their brains.

“If you give me like some minutes,’’ Tooru muttered, breath falling against Hajime’s damp forehead, “you can fuck my thighs maybe?’’

 _Damn cocky bastard._ Oikawa Tooru was fucking unfair.

“As long as you don’t wake me up to run at 6 AM…’’

Tooru smirked, pressing a kiss against Hajime’s forehead now. “No worries, Iwa-chan. You can be lazy now.’’ 

—

Hajime woke up by a cacophony of noises coming from the kitchen, feeling groggy and bone-sleek under tangled, messy covers.

His eyes opened and he looked around. He would get scared at not finding Tooru by his side but who else could be this fucking loud at—he looked to his alarm on the side—8 fucking AM?

Groaning, he sat up and stretched, trying to blink away any sleepiness. His legs pressed together as he stood up and as something slippery ran down it.

The realization that the enormity of their connection had intruded in every aspect of their life thrummed in his mind. Now, it was up to them. Even if they had conversed yesterday, his heart clenched at the thought it had all been the heat of the moment.

He padded into the kitchen and there Tooru was, loudly making his presence known for everyone to notice.

His broad back was towards Hajime and he was unabashedly shirtless, his nakedness only covered by his short briefs, displaying the love bitten skin of his thighs.

Heat crawled up his neck. Tooru looked marked and ravished and Hajime was sure his own thighs looked the same. If someone were to walk in on them, there would be absolutely no doubt of what they had been up to.

“Iwa-chan,’’ Tooru drawled and Hajime halted in his steps, not having realized Tooru had taken note of his arrival. Hajime waited, breath caged in his chest for Tooru’s next words. “Can you feed me the pancakes?”

Shaking his head, he retorted, “And you call me Lazy!”

“Oh!” Tooru scoffed, fixing his gaze on Hajime, “So you can feed me your fingers and stuff me with your cock but no pancakes? I see how it is.” The spoon was pointing in his direction.

Oikawa Tooru had no right looking this good and being so damn difficult after such an intense night.

Hajime’s eyes widened slightly; he scoffed and moved to put the kettle on.

Not five minutes later, Tooru dropped pancakes on their plates, adorning them with syrup and cut up fruits.

The ache and worry that had settled in Hajime’s ribcage easily slid into nothingness as they sat down on the kitchen counter.

Tooru hummed around his food, chewing it before leaning and pecking Hajime’s lips, sweet and messy—and just right.

Their hands intertwined without a second thought on top of the table, Hajime’s thumb caressing his knuckles. He continued chattering about a movie they would have to see.

“You know what,” Tooru started, gaze full of mischief and swallowing down the food, “I bet a picture of us at the Olympics after I beat your team’s ass would look amazing on our wall.”

Hajime smiled softly at him, feeling so uninhibitedly happy, with such casual words and statements of a future together. _Our wall._ Their future looked bright, unrestrained, and exciting. The fact the rest of their lives could be as intertwined as the past 27 years had been was stunning. The thought of finally spending it together, of making sure they didn’t waste any more time apart made his heart warm and utterly happy.

He couldn’t believe he now got to love the man sitting next to him in the kitchen loud, for all the world to witness.

Iwaizumi Hajime was one lucky bastard.

“It will look amazing,’’ Hajime grinned, “I’ll print it in the maximum size there is.’’ But the errant thought of Tooru’s position as Argentina’s setter was too loud to ignore, even if it would hurt him. “You said our wall but your home is not here.’’

“Iwa-chan,’’ Tooru said, expression serious and Hajime’s eyes fixed on him, “Home is wherever we’re together.’’ Hajime sucked in a deep breath. Here was Tooru, still leaving him speechless at such an early hour, after a lifetime being accustomed to his words. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. We always do, Iwa-chan.’’

Hajime squeezed his hand, feeling love outpour as it happened.

“We have time.” Tooru grinned. “We have nothing but time.”

Hajime thought about a few weeks ago, when he had picked him up. About having thought, that night, that they had time—time despite the distance, the oceans. It served as a nice confirmation that they were still so synchronized to each other, to have Tooru whispering, throwing back the words at him.

“We do.” Hajime exhaled, feeling emotional at everything he was for him and how a perfect feeling it was to have his love reciprocated with the same cadency.

Hajime’s hand went up to his face and he caressed the slope of his cheek against his palm for a moment, feeling and aching again for Tooru’s skin.

Tooru hummed, nuzzling against his palm, eyelids shut tight. “Now,’’ Tooru pursed his lip, eyes glistening, “Can you do that thing where you put your fingers in my mouth again while we shower? I feel all sticky.” He scrunched up his eyebrows.

Hajime pinched his cheek lightly. “Are you kidding me?” He huffed. “We were having a moment and y—“

“Iwa-chan,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m always having a moment when I’m with you.” He peeked out his tongue.

Hajime beamed and his hand fell on Tooru’s thigh.

He basked at that moment, in that morning, getting as close to Tooru as possible.

Underneath the sun shining through his binds, hearing Tooru speak, Hajime had another thing to add to the irrevocable facts about Oikawa Tooru he had collected through the years, one that made his heart clench tightly and so, so warm.

Seven, Oikawa Tooru loved and loved with all his might. And somehow, the universe had deemed Hajime himself lucky enough to have stumbled upon him ever since birth. More so, he had been lucky enough to store a place for himself in his heart.

As Tooru chuckled once again, the sound reverberating down his spine, Hajime thought about how the distance of oceans was nothing but a pitstop if he was by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the[ fic graphic](https://twitter.com/ttodomomo/status/1336843709359468544) if you wish to share this fic on Twitter!🥺
> 
>  **🤩🥰** so, yeah. FINGERS IN MOUTH!!!
> 
> —Here's the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2e1gq9kOVQnErJsCuho2RN?si=D0G2kkA_T_uo25tYNwK50g) I used to write this (See: Reggeaton songs that Oikawa would dance to Iwaizumi)
> 
> —UH UH. Also, thanks to the SakuAtsu [redacted] Home for all the encouragement while I sprinted! This was my first time writing smut so the cheering on was very much appreciated. Will always be amazed by how they let me indulge in my fingers in mouth agenda! MWAH😍🥺
> 
> —Also thanks to my HQThirstmas team, I love y'all!🥰
> 
> Kudos and/or comments are very welcome and appreciated 🥰   
> [@ttodomomo](https://twitter.com/ttodomomo) is my main and NSFW twitter if you're 18+ and want to talk!💞  
>  **I have more Haikyuu!! fics[here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbadw0lf), if you want to read them🥰**  
>    
> Until next time!


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